Toy Story: A Messenger's Tale
by FierySable
Summary: It's basically 1+R in the eyes of someone, or rather, something, that watches them with impartial observation and the role it plays in their relationship, or lack of. It is, to some extent, a brief summary on everyone's life as well.


toy story, a bear's POV

Disclaimer: This has nothing to do with Disney's "Toy Story" it just seems that the title is appropriate. After I finish with it, I will return it to Disney, a little worn, but still untarnished. The main character belongs to Relena Dorlain and the term "Eve Wars" is not mine either. I own nothing except the fic. ^-^ Enjoy!

AN: I hope this is slightly more imaginative and less cliched than what I have been writing lately…I don't think I've read any fics that look from the teddy bear's point of view (maybe because it's not animated? -_-;;) even though there are many that center on it as a main part of Relena and Heero's relationship. But what if the teddy bear was telling the story? Well, that's what I wondered, and this is the product of such strange pondering.

You may have already noticed, but I'm dedicating almost every new fic to a different person, all of them very good writers/reviewers, to show my appreciation of their efforts. This one is dedicated **to Jason M. Lee** and her "Justice, Freedom, Decency, Ethnicity……Humanity" in particular because the questions she brought out into public are ones I ask myself every day. Also, her "Draconian Troubles" was excellent as well, with a very original plot line. *sheepish grin* She is perhaps the only self insertion that I am willing to read with continuous consistency…wonderful job J-san!

Pairing: Although this is mainly 1+R, there are also slight mentions of 2+H and 3+4. In other wards, there will be mentions of both nonyaoi and yaoi pairings although the main focus will be on Relena and Heero.

*~Toy Story: A Messenger's Tale~*

I don't know if God gave everyone the ability to think, to feel. To laugh at the falling winds or to cry alone in the rain…I have never experienced such emotions. They are beyond me. Yet I know that humans have given me the ability to observe what passes before me, and I have done my duty, keeping silent vigil over she they call Relena Dorlain.

No one knows her as well as I, not even the Perfect Soldier that once watched her from afar by day and stood hidden in the shadows of her room by night. Be that as it may, I am the one who sees her exhaustion as she drags herself into her bedroom after midnight and in the morning, mine is the first face she sees as she wakes up from her three- hour rest. Before she falls asleep, it is to me she whispers of her day, pains and joys, failures and triumphs.

No…no one knows her as well as I do.

It is hard to say _how_ I came to be in her possession…or how I came into this world, for that matter. Only that one minute I wasn't. Then I was. 

My fluffy body was encased in a furry, satin skin, carefully sewed together along preset seams in exact, tiny stitches. Glassy button eyes serve as the windows to my world and a felt nose allows me the luxury of scent. I wish now that my Maker had the foresight to make a mouth with which I could speak, but my mouth is but a sewn, curved line.

A pity, but nothing in this world is perfect. One learns to accept his limitations.

A tag clipped to my ear proudly declares that I am "made in Switzerland", of the product line CX232, and "filled with all new material", which, I think, is somewhat insulting. If I were human, it would be called an illegal background check, but since I am only a child's toy, I suppose they think it is all right to disregard one's rights or lack of. But that is neither here nor there and does not affect this story in the least.

With the other stuffed animals, I sat on a plastic shelf in B and C's Toyz, awaiting my fate with a somewhat resigned patience. The others were bought, and I watched, almost wistfully, as they were taken away in pretty, foil wraps or held tightly in the arms of little girls. Until a year had passed, and I still sat in the same toy store, relegated to the "sale items" bin with all other homeless unfortunates. 

Maybe you don't understand why toys wish to be owned. After all, it is only a matter of time before the stitching becomes loose and button eyes are scratched from all the falling and scraping and cuddling. After ten years at most, we are declared old and as such, every toy's final destination is the city dump…equivalent to a human's death. However, that is not the point. During the time we spend with our owners, little children, old grandmothers, we bring pleasure to people, pleasure and joy.

That is our purpose. Simple? Yes, but that is enough.

Then again, it didn't seem like I was going to get that chance, competing as I was with huge, beige elephants and thin-waist Barbie dolls…modern products for a modern world as the saying goes, and I was anything but. But fate, it seems, is not without a few quirks of its own.

I was not paying much attention that day, lost, no doubt, in my own melancholy thoughts, until hands, cool and firm, picked me up and I found myself in the possession of a Prussian-eyed, young man with a tumble-down mop of brown hair. Not an ideal owner, but, well, you take what you can get…not to mention I had no say in the matter. 

I was paid for and taken out of the store in the crook of his arm and for the first time, I got my look at the outside world. Let me tell you, for one who has never seen beyond the four walls of a store, the Earth is a beautiful place. It was spring so the plants were just starting to throw out tentative buds of color, from pale pink to vibrant violet that contrasted sharply with the rich emerald leaves. The sidewalk was a shy, dove gray and scrabbling weeds twisted their way from the cracks and gaps between cement blocks with stubborn vitality that would not submit to an architect's design. Cars, loud and frightening with their flashing lights and loud, screeching honks, flashed by as they bore their busy passengers hither and thither, and I wondered that they were so used to Earth that they took it so much for granted, didn't even "stop to smell the roses". 

But perhaps the world's monotony, its staid, unexciting existence, is what caused them to seek the mystery of the stars. Perhaps to them, the Earth is as ordinary as the third shelf of a toy store.

It was not long after my new owner, whom I eventually learned was the infamous Heero Yuy, reached the spaceport with it's sleek sable and white shuttles and what he did next would have made me shocked and nervous…if I had had the capacity to be so. He stole…ahem, excuse me…_borrowed_, a guard's uniform, filched a keycard, and slipped onto one of the spaceships without a by your leave.

To say I was stunned would have been putting it mildly.

He strolled down the walkway before he came to the window seat of the fifth row and sat me down in it, and I could have sworn that his lips tipped upwards slightly…or maybe I couldn't have because according to Relena, he doesn't smile. From his breast pocket, he drew out a small envelope and card and jotted down a quick note on it before slipping it under the ribbon about my neck. Then, cool as you please, he turned around and left, walking back out of the shuttle.

Wonderful…bought and abandoned in the course of half an hour. I might as well have thrown myself into a trash bin and ended it right there…only one slight problem: I had no motor skills. 

Sigh.

Well, you know how it goes from there. It turns out I was a gift for Mr. Toy-hater's girlfriend…or whatever she was to him at the time. She picked me up, read the card, ripped the card, smiled, waved goodbye, and the rest, as they say, is history. I still remember her first words to me as the shuttle took off; she tipped me back and said, "So, you're Heero's messenger, are you? Heero's little messenger bear…"

We never saw her Perfect Soldier again for a full year, but I sure _heard_ enough about him. Too much. Way, way, _way_ too much…so much that I was unimaginably glad that I would never experience this brain-mushing thing called love_._

As I said, _we_ never saw Heero again for a year, but it seems that _he_ kept an eye on _her_. A year after I had received Relena, that nasty man Dekim had her kidnapped for some political reason or other. I still don't know the whole story; news travels slow when you're a stuffed animal and I was not included in on Relena's little adventure. 

Well, in the times after the Eve Wars, everyone settled easily or uneasily, as it may be, into their own niche in a time of growing economical and political prosperity. I think the first pilots that made that transfer wholeheartedly was Duo and Hilde Maxwell. Now there's an unforgettable couple…judging from their wedding pictures anyway, which are fondly folded within Relena's photo album in protectively covered sheets. How would I know? Let me just put it this way, the groom and bride are not supposed to be dressed in clown outfits (probably stolen from Trowa...who looked slightly aggrieved, and just as resigned) and the ring bearer is not supposed to be old, bald, and wearing a Hawaiian T-shirt. There is _no_ such thing as a best _woman_, whom Hilde insisted just _had_ to be Relena, and there really shouldn't be elephants and zoo animals at the wedding reception. 

Then again, I'm only a teddy bear, so what do I know?

But getting back to my owner. After Relena's kidnapping by Dekim Barton, she went back to work to soothe the people and Lady Une surrounded her in Preventers, including outside her own bedroom. Initially, it was a relatively tall Chinese man with sable black eyes and a crisp, almost cold manner. But he took her safety very seriously, so I can forgive him for frightening Relena out of her wits the first time she opened the door at two o' clock in the morning and saw him standing guard duty, I guess. The one time that she suggested it wasn't necessary, he pinned her with a glare that told her very succinctly, that it was a matter of honor that no _onna_ could understand. 

That was the end of that discussion.

Relena never got used to the idea of a total stranger standing all night outside her doorway, and neither, it seems, did Heero. Because a week later, he abruptly showed up in Ironpants' stead and announced that he was her new twenty-four hour bodyguard. Everything went well for two years, Relena was happy, Fei-boy was relieved of his distasteful duty, and I was relieved of his distasteful presence. And Heero…well Heero was Heero. Who knew what was going on in _his_ complex mind?

That's when the press started getting nasty. I mean, _naastyy. _Relena, by this time, was eighteen years old, a _very_ young Prime Minister in anyone's view, and in this day in age, people were concerned that such responsibility and trust were placed in the hands of a teenage adolescent. I mean, their Prime Minister, in any other circumstance would be a senior in high school…

I admit, I understand why it would be disconcerting to certain people…but the press loved it…and took every opportunity to exploit it. It all started with a tabloid with the lurid proclamation _Minister of Peace, Sexual Timebomb??_ And on the front page was a graphic picture of my Relena and Mr. Yuy twined in some kind of…well, you get the picture. And so did I. 

Excuse me Mr. Paparazzi Man, I've been the only thing in Relena's bed for exactly three years and I would _know_ if those two were having some kind of relationship. You want to know what their relationship was? This is the long and short of it:

Equation:

{[(Heero + Relena) x bed] 2 / (sexual relationship)} 

= Arctic Winter

It actually was! If Heero could get any colder, we would have both cracked and shattered like a couple of ice cubes. The Perfect Soldier…I guess that's where he gets his nickname…is wholly concerned about the unity and strength of the world, and that, I guess, is his be-all, end-all goal…did I mention he has a one track mind? Everything he did and to some extent, does now, is to preserve the peace of the nations; he is focused so much on that goal that he totally repressed all emotions and selfish desires with iron-willed determination, as if by strength alone, he can stand between the colonies and war. Perhaps if the press didn't get involved, nothing would have come of their relationship or lack thereof. Except they did…and Heero was suddenly, for the first time in his life, confronted with a major political scandal of which he was innocent of.

You want to see the Perfect Soldier angry? That's they way to do it.

It was such a scandal that journalists, if they could even be _called_ that, camped day and night on Relena's front lawn, climbing the huge weeping willow just outside her window to take some "incriminating photos". They stalked her from the mansion to the Council Hall, from the Council Hall to the various meetings, Colonial councils, countries, cities…they wouldn't let up. It got so bad that for a month, she would come home every day, and cry herself to sleep, holding me so tightly that my seams had to be re-sewn twice.

She stopped smiling entirely and she dreaded going to the work she loved so much, trying to think up any reason to postpone her trips and engagements because she did not wish to face the paparazzi. People branded her a coward because of that, and said that because she tried to avoid the unwanted publicity, she must be guilty. But what people didn't understand was that she _did_ face the press, denying the allegations with quiet serenity, and when that didn't work, submitted her resignation to the Council.

She did all of that with such calm dignity so that no one knew how hard it was for her to get out of bed every day. How hard it was not to submit to the misery that kept her on anti-depressants and sleeping pills. No one knew of the weight she lost, picking unenthusiastically at various meals that were sent up to her room for "privacy's" sake. No one knew how much she hurt except for me. And Heero.

And he was completely furious.

I think he stomached about two weeks of this endless criticism, before the dam broke. If it had only been his reputation, he would have turned a cold shoulder and let the shower of abuse wash over him; he didn't care. But I guess seeing Relena weeping every night, nonstop, broke through even his façade of ice, because on the first week of March, he abruptly turned and with an unprecedented lack of control, grabbed one of the more insulting journalists by the collar of his shirt. Very quietly, he warned them that such action would not be tolerated by the ESUN Council _or_ by Preventor HQ. 

He also issued a statement in the same deadly cold voice that he and Relena had only a working association thus far and that the people of the ESUN had not suffered because of that relationship. Then without another word, he abruptly dropped the reporter as diffidently as he would have squashed an insect and gestured for Relena to proceed him to the waiting car. 

Taking their cue from Heero's unexpected defense of their Prime Minister, the Council gave a report on the vid-links and telecoms stating that the "Prime Minister Dorlain, after years of loyal service, is resigning her office in face of such criticism." Quatre Winner, as acting Head of the Council, also announced quietly that it was unfortunate that "Miss Relena's age is the only detractor from gaining the public's full trust. As it is…many of our younger Councilors may face the same problems in the future." 

Well, unlike all happily-ever-afters, Relena actually could _not_ turn the public's sympathy enough and she _did_ end up resigning her commission, training Dorothy to secede her as Prime with Quatre as her adviser. Yes, Dorothy was young, only slightly older than my Relena. But she lacked the youthful confidence and unwavering belief that many mistaken as naivete in my young charge. Unlike Relena who always looked as if she had to be protected from the world's pains, Dorothy's eyes are hard, her wit honed to a tempered edge as sharp as any saber. She does not have Relena's soft heart or warm compassion, but she looks…no, that is unfair…she _is_ strong enough to carry on the legacy of peace that Relena and the Gundam pilots initiated. And contrary to what some believed at the onslaught, she _did_ have the ESUN's welfare at heart.

Some wondered at why Relena would choose _Quatre_ of all people to act as Dorothy's adviser; after all, those two were completely opposite in personality. But as the Council soon learned, those two worked very well together, able to think and act on the same wavelength as needed. Also, there would be no chance at all that Quatre and Dorothy could ever face the same scandal as she and Heero did. 

After all, it was a well-known fact that one of the galaxy's richest, most charming bachelors…was quite unavailable, having lost his heart to a certain performer, the aforementioned Trowa Barton, during the Libra incident some years ago. It was a sweet, little affair that had most of the Earth and colonies looking in avidly with much sighing (in disappointment or contentment, I would not be able to tell you) and eye fluttering. Half a year after the Eve Wars and a few hundred performances later, Trowa finally gave up the circus life and went to live with his little one. They adopted a child soon after their official marriage: a tiny Chinese baby with bright almond eyes and dark, sable hair. They named her Chi-chi and waged an endless war to keep her from being too spoiled by twenty-eight aunts on Quatre's side, and another one on Trowa's. Not to mention all the females that come to coo at her from time to time…I believe some of the raggedness in my fur has to do with that certain child's pudgy arms.

As it was, campaign "Don't Spoil the Child" was a complete failure, much to the resignation of her fathers, although some of that fault must be laid at _their_ doorsteps. Buying her seventeen vintage dolls for her third birthday is _much_ too extravagant, in my eyes. But oh what fun I have had with that child…well, besides the time when she was teething. But then again, I have been more than one child's chew toy, and I guess I must be resigned to it by now…

But I digress from the original topic of my lady. Although she retired from intercolonial affairs, Relena, it seems, is never happy when she is not doing _something_. So in the first few restless years of her politically inactive life, she sponsored a wide variety of charity projects, worked in many nonprofit organizations as a secretary, a nurse, a representative speaker…anything to keep her busy. 

Anything to help her forget.

For three years, she submerged herself beneath a dozen and one programs: from Project Outreach, an organization to help the children that had been orphaned during the Eve Wars, to supervising dam and aqueduct repairs. More often than not, she was never at home, traveling abroad to campaign for one of her pet projects or argue with a community leader for higher human rights. The Peacecraft mansion became more and more like a ghost house of unwanted memories, only a temporary place where she could occasionally go to rest for a night or two before she went out again.

She went about being a humanitarian leader as fiercely as she had worked as a diplomat, but only one thing in her work ethic was different: she always went about it alone. When Heero's offer to shadow her as her bodyguard was quietly refused. After all, she had no more political enemies that she could make; therefore an escort was unnecessary. That was what she said out loud, anyway; it was the reason that Heero accepted and left her alone for those years…perhaps to watch from afar, perhaps not. Only he would know. 

But I knew, maybe more than even she did, that she was afraid. That she was afraid another rumor would spring up to ruin her life again. Of this, I am certain; my Relena is the epitome of "once bitten, twice shy". It has always been her nature and she has always been wary of unwanted publicity…but publicity, it seems, follows her wherever she goes, no matter how hard she tries to avoid it.

Five years after colony 195, on her twenty-first birthday, an assassination attempt was leveled on the Prime Foreign Minister, Dorothy Catalonia's life. A fanatic from the remnants of OZ had gone berserk in one of the press conferences, accusing Dorothy of betraying her deceased grandfather's ideals with her movements towards peace. Before anyone could stop him, he had snapped out a gun and leveled it on her chest. The first shot took Lady Une in the shoulder, almost nicking the carthoid artery as the Preventor chief interposed her body between Dorothy and the bullet. The second shot ricocheted off the back wall and buried itself into the back of the podium, where Dorothy had been standing only seconds before.

The Preventors stationed around the conference building quickly took control of the situation, but Lady Une had to be sent to the hospital where she spent the next few weeks in critical care under surgeon Sally Po. Une's foster daughter, Maremia, refused to leave her mother's side until she had recovered sufficiently to be moved into the safety of a military installation and the Council leaders were also swept into secure locations before any other assassination attempt could be rallied.

And less than a week afterwards, Heero showed up at the charity function that Relena was guest-speaking at. Without a word, he just stood in a shadowed corner and watched broodingly over her as she made a speech on behalf of the war orphans. Unannounced and unexpected. After three years, four months, and two days. Completely silent. 

He didn't change much, can you tell?

After the conference, Relena immediately phoned Preventor HQ and asked to speak to the acting Chief…which happened to be Wufei Chang. She immediately hung up. Well, wouldn't you? Wufei's customary harangue about a "woman's place in society" is daunting and _long_, to say the least.

Then she took Heero to a more isolated part of the building and argued with the taciturn pilot for a full hour. Or _she_ argued. He just stood there and gave an occasional "Hn" or "Murderers almost kill Dorothy Catalonia. They might come after you." Arguing with Heero is like arguing with a concrete wall; he'll outlast you through sheer indifference. Do I have to tell you who gave up in the end?

Well, in the end they compromised and Heero drove Relena back to her hotel and rented the room adjacent to hers rather than sitting outside her door all night as he was wont to do. Relena, of course, was furious with her sudden reversal back to an object to be protected and pummeled _me_ in a sheer fit of temper. Why? Because I was Heero's messenger bear, so when the Perfect Soldier did anything wrong, I got the blame. Like I said. Being a teddy bear is _not _easy.

Gradually, she became used to Heero's presence back in her life, even if she never did get used to the emotional turmoil she felt in his presence. If it was a frustrating period for _her_, it was more so for me. _I_ was the one privy to all her tantrums and semi-depressions. I was the one that received the punishment for whatever perceived misdeed that Heero performed. I think in those weeks, I was thrown into more trashcans, across more rooms, and once, even out the window, more than I have ever been abused before in her care. The funny thing was that right afterwards, she would always fetch me out of where ever she had chucked me and gave me a long, drawn out apology complete with tearful explanation.

You humans don't know how strange you are to us stuffed animals. How many extremes of emotion you can go through in the course of two seconds never ceases to amaze me. Oh, remember I said I was lamenting my lack of motor skills and the ability to move? I take it back. To move, you must have nerves, and I am _so_ glad I don't have those (figuratively and literally) or else:

  1. Relena would have gotten on them along time ago. 
  2. That would have been a _painful_ few weeks.

You don't think so? _You_ try flying across the room at Mock 2 and slamming into the wall. See how _you _like it! We stuffed animals are _abused_, I tell you! We work and we slave just for your comfort, our sole purpose to bring joy and laughter into your life, and what do we…oh. Sorry, I go off on the Stuffed Animals' Proclamation of Rights way too often. I think it's because of my long association with Relena and her propensity for speechmaking.

Anyway, Relena's mercurial changes in mood finally got to the point that even _she_ could not stand it without doing something drastic. So three weeks after he had come to "protect her", he was walking her back to her hotel room as usual. He had just opened the door to check for any possible intruders when she turned, went on tiptoe, and pressed her lips square against his mouth. 

My Relena is spontaneous. 

Of course, she was also embarrassed and blushing furiously when she finally came to her senses. So instead of explaining her emotions to him as she should have done, she slammed the door in the bewildered Perfect Soldier's face and spent the remainder of the night moaning to me about how idiotic she was and how could she possibly have done _that??! _She did this all night long. Over and _over_ again_. _I would have rather she had just thrown me against the wall. 

It's not to say that she is a bad person; quite the opposite, in fact. If I could love, I would love this girl dearly, but her inclination for pouring her heart out when she was "alone" would have driven even the most impartial of listeners to insanity. 

The next morning, a much-subdued Relena peeked out of her bedroom door and walked with Heero down the hall as if nothing had happened. She danced artistic, verbal circles around the subject of that kiss, very nervous yet trying to make believe that she was not. Heero was merely his stoic self, accepting her too-bright chatter with cool recognition and saying little in return.

As the day wore on, Relena relaxed a little more when it seemed that Heero would not be responding to her overtures last night. It almost seemed as if he had forgotten that brief kiss in favor of his usual pensive alertness to any danger. By the time Heero escorted her back to the room, it was way past midnight. The charity council had kept her up with a variety of questions, complaints, and problems until Heero had, in his usual blunt fashion, taken Relena by the arm and with a curt nod at the committee, led her forcibly out of the chamber.

He did his usual room check as Relena leaned against the wall in a state of sleepy semi-awareness, not really paying attention to anything around her. And no wonder; she was exhausted from the continuous demands made upon her by the charity cabinet and she had definitely not gotten any sleep the night before, either. So it was no small wonder that when Heero announced that the room was clear, she merely smiled drowsily and nodded, not noticing the rather odd expression on his face. 

She was moving past him when his hand slipped around her arm, then up to her chin, tipping her head up. Before she could get anything out of her mouth, he bent down and gave her what _could_ be termed a kiss (very quick, very, very light) before he walked rapidly out of the room. She didn't get any sleep that night either.

Well, what do you think happened the next day? 

Exactly. _Nothing_. 

Do you know what we call this kind of behavior? (Besides unusual, unnatural, and frustrating as hell…) We call it _kindergarten love_. Love that both parties are unused to and therefore do not acknowledge in word or action besides an occasional stolen kiss or brief embrace. So sometimes they hugged, exchanging a small, hesitant word and sometimes they ignored the fact that a relationship existed at all, the latter, more often than not. 

Well, this went on for another few months, an on and off relationship that had all of their friends and associates completely befuddled and confused. Duo, of course, brought this up bluntly to his best friend as he demanded, "So what's going on between you and 'Jousan? Are you guys together or not?" Well…maybe that _was_ a little blunt (or maybe the Shinigami had a death wish…) but it seems his words were a catalyst because they _finally_ went out on a date a month and a half later. I mean, they had only known each other for close to seven years…it wasn't _that_ long, was it?

Never mind. Don't even _answer_ that.

Well, I don't have to tell you how long the dating part went on since both parties involved were more often than not hesitant and unwilling to reveal their true emotions. And actually, I'm not going to. Telling _that_ part of their so-called romance is just a lesson on futility and bafflement. Even the _tabloids_ could not find any juicy bits to reveal to the public since more often than not, nothing _was_ going on. Besides a quiet candlelight (if even that) dinner was on the itinerary and _maybe_ a kiss goodnight outside Relena's doorway when Heero dropped her off where ever she was staying. 

Did they ever get married?

Well, let's just put it this way. It has been a total of fourteen years since I met Relena and she will be celebrating her thirtieth birthday in a few months. An adorable two-year-old child with pale crystal eyes and a thatch of unruly chocolate brown hair has claimed me as her personal chew toy and is now gumming happily away on my raggedy left ear, having already worn out the right. There is no more sorrow or uncertainty in Relena's voice when she talks to her little Sara and she no longer needs me as her personal confidante, having found in her Perfect Soldier, a quiet and supporting ear to listen and a shoulder to lean on. 

I am, as toys go, quite old now. My satin white fur has long dulled to a dim gray and my glassy button eyes, once so bright and shiny, have been marred by scratches born of love, cuddling, and temper tantrums. I have lost weight (literally) after a debacle with the family dog, Rugby Marcus Badaboom Peacecraft Yuy; I call him the Sharp-Toothed Terror. That fuzzball of a Pomeranian probably has more than one puff of my cotton stuffing floating around in his stomach. 

Sticky hands are holding me tightly about my middle and I don't half mind the attention. It gives me something to think about, to observe, although sometimes it's hard to mind that cherubic faced baby. My mind wanders now. 

Sometimes as I sit out to dry after a brief run through the washing machine, I'll remember how I once was: an eager young stuffed animal that left the third shelf of the toy shop to see the world. I'll remember the foam padding of the coarse plane seat as I perched there with a card woven through the pink ribbon at my neck. A simple card in a simple white envelop bearing the simple words:

I will protect you.

~Owari~

Ending Author's Note: Well…I hope it's somewhat original…or maybe not. *sigh* In any case, please review, please. Flames, criticism, and whatever else _is_ accepted.s


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